Chapter Text
It’s a little over six years ago. Winter is just beginning to melt away, and Lup’s in her humble, one-floor house at the edge of town. In a piece of cloth securely wrapped around her, her baby sleeps peacefully against her chest as she putters around. She has nothing specific that needs doing, no one actively waiting on a spell or a token from her, so she tidies, and she cooks, and she sits and studies and hums to her baby.
Then there’s a knock on the door.
She opens it to reveal Magnus and Julia, who push in past her. She tuts, but smiles. “Come on, guys. I love the enthusiasm, but your wedding was hardly two months ago. You’ve got to give it a bit more time before you come running to me.”
“It’s not about that,” Julia says. The serious tone of her voice and the way Magnus eyes the windows brings her into the moment.
“What’s wrong?”
“You need to leave.”
Her eyes widen. “Why?” She loves this place.
Julia hesitates. Magnus says, “your daughter.”
Her hands come up to cradle the warm bundle against her. “What about her?”
“Magnus–” Julia warns.
“She has to know.”
“Know what?” Lup snaps.
Magnus gestures to Julia. She sighs, then says, “Kalen’s lost his mind. He’s convinced nearly everyone that she's a demon.”
Lup can’t help but laugh at the absurdity. “She’s not. She’s– I made her.”
“We know. But no one else seems to.”
“They're too scared to refute it,” Magnus says, his arms crossed.
Julia takes her by the shoulders, “you have to get out of here before sunset.”
Her heart races, and she feels ill. There’s a deadline. Why is there a deadline? “What’s happening? What is he planning?”
“That’s not important–”
“They’re coming for her,” Magnus says. “And you, too, if you don’t cooperate.”
Her hold around Lilliana tightens. “How?”
He sighs, “Lup–”
“Tell me.”
“Magnus, don’t.”
He looks more somber than she's ever seen in the years she's known him. “They’re building a bonfire. You can imagine the rest.”
Barry’s old home is on the outskirts of Neverwinter, away from the bustling downtown streets and surrounded by nature. Magnus drops them off down the road, and carries on towards the city, armed with the meager information Barry could provide about Kalen’s possible whereabouts.
They weave their way through the brush and peer through the bushes. The grounds are crawling with people. Some tend to the gardens, others are shadows inside as they pass by the windows. “Shit,” Lup whispers. “They’re already cleaning it up.”
He laughs as silently as he can. “You say that like I left yesterday. It’s been over a month.”
She scoffs. “Well. I don’t know. Bureaucracy is slow as fuck. I thought they might've just let it sit.”
“Nah, I saw this coming. Follow me.”
He leads her through the trees, moving along the edge of the property, then delves just slightly deeper into them until they reach a peaceful clearing with a tall marble obelisk in the center. The dirt before it has been disturbed recently, and he breathes a sigh of relief.
“That’s quite the rock,” Lup says. Barry laughs.
“My mom never would’ve picked it herself. When my father died, people insisted that his grave be opulent, and someone gifted us that thing. To spite them, she said she wanted him buried somewhere private, so they’d have to haul it all the way back here.”
“I think I would’ve liked your mom.”
“She would’ve liked you.”
“Go on,” Lup says, pushing him towards the grave, “I’ll wait here.”
He gets closer, and can see her name freshly carved into the marble, underneath his father’s, which is worn from years spent in the elements. He removes the disguise token, and stands in this moment as himself.
“Hi mom,” he says quietly, fiddling with the necklace in his hands. A lump forms in his throat and tears prick at his eyes. “I just want to say that I miss you, and I’m sorry. For trying to bring you back, and making your peaceful death into a chaotic one. I’m sorry it took me so long to come back, and I’m sorry that I can’t stay.” He laughs, on the edge of humourless, “I really got myself into a big mess, but it’s okay,” he looks over at Lup, “I was lucky enough to stumble across someone willing to put up with me.”
She rolls her eyes and opens her mouth to say something, but she’s interrupted by another voice that says, “how cute.”
A tall, broad man with a menacing smile emerges from the surrounding trees. “Sildar Hallwinter,” he says. “I don't believe we've met.” He stands straighter and puffs out his chest. “I am Governor Kalen.”
“I'm aware,” Barry says, fixing his posture and putting on his nobility hat. Kalen reeks of new money trying to impress, but Barry? He's old money. He's got nothing to prove. “I was there when the king gave you that title. What was it? Two months ago? Three?”
Kalen scowls. “I wouldn't act so smug, if I were you. You've been stripped of everything. You have no title, no land, no fortune. You're nobody.”
He clasps his hands behind his back. “And yet so much energy has been expended looking for me. Funny how that happens.”
“Everyone else is foolish, chasing you like animals. I played it smart. I knew you'd come back here eventually. Everything I've heard about you tells me you're a pathetic man that never grew out of his boyhood.”
Lup makes some sort of noise, akin to a scoff, offended on his behalf. Kalen looks over at her and narrows his eyes, “do I know you?”
She pales. “No.” There's a frightened edge to her voice, and Barry wants nothing more than to be standing next to her. He wants to take her hand and hold it tight and reassure her that, at the very least, she's not alone.
"No, I do know you. You're that witch." Kalen laughs an evil, cocky laugh. "How great is this?! I can deliver you to the king right alongside this traitorous bastard, and we can start the manhunt anew for that devil child of yours.” He claps his hands together, “oh, how I'll be rewarded when I have her drawn and quartered and banished from this world. The king won't just grant me the Hallwinter lands, he'll give me the whole county. A proper lordship. A place in court." He grins, his ego dripping from every pore, "I'll finally get everything I deserve."
Barry looks to Lup, expecting her to bite him back with a sharp retort or a fireball or a good old fashioned slap to the face. She stands tall, and she meets Kalen's eyes, but her jaw is clenched tightly, her fists shake, and she looks like she wants to run, but her feet are frozen in place. His brow furrows.
"No," he says.
Kalen frowns. "You don't have a choice, Hallwinter." He draws his sword and levels it at him, "you're mine."
Barry reaches a hand out towards him, and an energy he told himself he'd never touch gathers in his fingertips. "You aren't taking us anywhere."
They stand in a stalemate, then Kalen whirls around with his sword, swinging at Lup. Barry releases the energy. Kalen's eyes roll back in his head and he collapses with little fanfare. Lup exhales shakily and takes a tentative step forward to look at him. "Is he dead?"
"Better be." He flexes his hand. It tingles a little bit. "I'll have to apologise to Magnus for co-opting his revenge."
She laughs, tears welling in her eyes, and hugs him, "he'll get over it."
He hugs her back and holds her tight. "You okay?"
"Yeah," she says into his shoulder. He knows it's not entirely true, she's trembling in his arms, but he’s sure he’s a little shaky himself.
"Let's get out of here," he says softly.
She pulls back from the hug. There are tear tracks down her cheeks. "Don't you want to…" she trails off, nodding towards his parents’ grave. “We could find a really nice spot for them in the meadow.”
He looks at the opulent headstone, the shape of his parents' names carved into the marble, then back to Lup. He shakes his head. “This is their spot. It always has been.” He wipes away the moisture on her cheeks. "Let's go home."
She lets Barry take her home. She even lets him hold her hand, and he doesn't point out how often she looks over her shoulder. He hugs her when she has nightmares that attack her with renewed fervour. Barry's warm and soft and kind and so, so grounding. She's only known the man for a few weeks, but she feels safe with him.
Then they get home, and things change, somehow. Barry becomes a part of her household, which turns into their household, and it feels like he was always there. He does chores and eats meals and plays games. He gets better at poker, but still can't win. Then one night Lilliana demands he read her a bedtime story, and suddenly he's part of her nighttime routine. Lup can hardly keep the sickening, mushy smile off her face as the three of them snuggle up together with a book. Then when Lilli passes out, they sneak out of her room and stay up far too late talking about magic and life and anything else they can think of.
She keeps in touch with Magnus, and commissions him to make them a bigger kitchen table.
Eventually, she declares that she wants her bedroom back, but is absolutely aghast at the notion of Barry sleeping on the couch. She would never do that to him. Especially with his creaky bones and achy back. So they share, and she wakes up every morning nestled in his arms. She can listen to him breathe and feel his heartbeat and simply take him in as early morning sun streams in through the window. He really is quite handsome.
When winter comes and the nights get truly, bitterly cold, she invites him into the nest in front of the still-warm fireplace. She curls up around Lilli, he curls up around both of them, and they bury themselves in blankets. Lup can't remember the last time she slept so well.
Then spring comes, they move back to the bedrooms, and life moves on. Barry's wonderful, and understands her on a level that she never thought anyone but Taako could.
It's three more years before she kisses him.
Winter is thawing into spring, and it's the first night they've spent back in their bed. Lup wakes up, as she always does, in Barry's arms. He's awake already, looking at her. His beautiful blue eyes are lidded, still sleepy in the early morning.
“Hi,” he says, almost a whisper. He idly rubs her back.
She hums in response and cups his cheek, tilting his head to press their foreheads together. They lay there, breathing each other in, revelling in the comfortable chill of early spring. She hardly notices how she drifts closer to him until their lips brush. He doesn't pull away, and neither does she, and she doesn't want to. Not now, not ever. She presses forward and kisses him, winding her arms around his neck. He kisses her back, wrapping her up tighter and holding her against him.
When they part, they lay there in quiet reverence. Barry smiles. “Does this mean you'll finally take credit for saving my life?”
“Only if you take credit for saving mine.”